


False Reality

by Multi_Fandom_Writer21



Series: Warriors Reimagined [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Book Series: Omen of the Stars, Book Series: The Prophecies Begin, Canon Divergence - The Prophecies Begin: Book 1: Into the Wild, Canon Rewrite, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Genderbending, Grooming, Humanized, Non-Canon Relationship, Omen of the Stars: Book 6: The Last Hope, Pedophilia, Rewrite, The Prophecies Begin: Book 1: Into the Wild, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Triggers, Warrior cats rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multi_Fandom_Writer21/pseuds/Multi_Fandom_Writer21
Summary: For the storm to break, the fire must shine bright as stars.Ever since he joined the clans many moons ago, Firestar knew he would be joining his deceased clanmates in Starclan. It was something he just knew would happen.But upon waking back in his old home, a Twoleg Nest, with her collar around her throat and still having her kitten fluff, she knew something was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be a Twoleg's pet again. That wasn't what was supposed to happen.Firestar, now renamed Sorrel, has to tread through familiar places, see familiar faces, and experience heart shattering and terrifying events again in exchange receive a second change to make everything right and to prevent unnecessary bloodshed.
Relationships: Bluefur & Firestar (Warriors), Brambleclaw & Firestar (Warriors), Firestar & Leafpool (Warriors), Firestar & Ruby (Warriors), Firestar & Socks (Warriors), Firestar & Squirrelflight (Warriors), Firestar & Yellowfang (Warriors), Firestar/Sandstorm (Warriors)
Series: Warriors Reimagined [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074155
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	1. Forward

The following is the Warrior Cats Reimagined series. To make a long tale short, I have been a dedicated fan of the warrior cat series by Erin Hunter since I was about ten years old and fell in love with the characters. Fell in love with the characters enough that I decided to name my own version of the Prophecies Begin arc and possibly future arcs that will follow a different path than the original.

With the exception of some of important plot points, this will mostly be an original story about a young molly, haunted by her past and present, braving a world darker and deadlier than one she once knew to help protect the cats she come to see as her kin and attempt to change the past so there can be a brighter future. If that interests you, then I suggest you read on, as having prior knowledge of Warrior Cats or read the original Prophecies Begins arc to enjoy the story.

But do understand, as someone who has matured since reading the first series, I have used stories as vessels to start talk on topics that normally get ignored. Because of this, there will be times were horrible things happen to the characters or to their home but even than, they still remain strong and go forward, still keeping hope.

But in true fashion there will be trigger warnings with grooming, pedophilia, and graphic description of gore and violence so be warned.

However, if you want to keeping reading, I suggest you continue onto the next chapters. 


	2. Alliances

Thunderclan

**Leader:** **Bluestar** : pale blue-gray she-cat with blue eyes

**Deputy:** **Redtail** : dark tortoiseshell tom with a bushy ginger tail and amber eyes

**Apprentice,** _Dustpaw_

**Medicine cat:** Spottedleaf: dark tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes

**Warriors:** (toms and she-cats, without kits)

**Adderfang** : mottled, dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

**Apprentice,** _Cherrypaw_

**Thistleclaw** : gray and white tabby tom with spiky fur and amber eyes

**Lionheart** : golden tabby tom with green eyes and thick fur like a lion’s mane

**Apprentice** : _Graypaw_

**Tigerclaw** : dark brown tabby tom with unusually long claws and amber eyes

**Apprentice** , _Ravenpaw_

**Whitestorm** : snowy-white tom with yellow eyes

**Apprentice** , _Sandpaw_

**Willowpelt** : slender, very pale silver-gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

**Mousefur** : small dusky brown she-cat with icy yellow eyes

**Runningwind** : lithe and musuclar, light brown tabby tom with green eyes

**Apprentice** , _Chestnutpaw_

**Darkstripe** : large, dark gray tabby tom with black stripes and yellow eyes

**Longtail** : lean, pale brown and silver tabby tom with black stripes and a long tail

**Apprentices:** (more than six moons, in training to be warrior)

**Dustpaw** : lithe, heavy dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

**Cherrypaw** : fluffy, snowy white she-cat with ginger and brown patches and amber eyes

**Ravenpaw** : black tom with a white dash on his chest and tail and green eyes

**Chestnutpaw** : reddish-brown tom with lighter parts and hazel eyes

**Sandpaw** : pale ginger she-cat with leaf-green eyes

**Graypaw** : dark gray tom with yellow eyes

**Queens:** (she-cats, nursing or raising kits)

**Speckletail** : pale golden tabby she-cat with amber eyes, expecting Smallear’s kits

**Goldenflower** : sleek, pale ginger she-cat with yellow eyes, mother of unknown tom’s kits: **Swiftkit** (small, black and white tom with pale amber eyes) and **Lynxkit** (ginger she-cat with black patches and blind blue eyes)

**Brindleface** : pale gray tabby she-cat with darker flecks and green eyes, expecting Whitestorm’s kits

**Frostfur** : pure white she-cat with dark sky blue eyes and sleek, soft fur, mother of Lionheart’s kits: **Cinderkit** (small, smoky dark gray she-cat with pale blue eyes), **Thornkit** (golden-brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes), **Brackenkit** (golden-brown tabby tom with amber eyes), and **Brightkit** (white she-cat with ginger patches and blue eyes)

**Dappletail** : broad-shouldered, dappled tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes and a muzzle gray with age, mated to Runningwind

**Elders:** (former warriors and queens, now retired)

**Stormtail** : large, dark blue-gray tom with blue eyes and broad shoulders

**Smallear** : gray tom with very small ears, amber eyes, and a nick in one ear

**Halftail** : big, broad-shouldered, dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes and part of his tail missing

**One-eye** : pale gray she-cat who is virtually blind and deaf and her remaining eye is yellow.

**Poppydawn** : long-haired dark red she-cat with an extremely bushy tail and amber eyes

**Patchpelt** : small, black and white tom with amber eyes

**Rosetail** : gray tabby she-cat with a bushy, pinkish-orange tail

Shadowclan

**Leader** : **Brokenstar** : matted, dark brown tabby tom with a bent tail and orange eye

**Deputy** : **Blackfoot** : white tom with jet-black paws and amber eyes

**Medicine cat:** **Yellowfang** : dark gray she-cat with orange eyes and a broad, flattened face

**Apprentice** , _Runningwind_

**Warriors** : **Russetfur** : sleek, scrawny, dark ginger she-cat with dark green eyes

**Flingfang** : gray tom with thick fur on his paws

**Fernshade** : tortoiseshell she-cat

**Stumpytail** : brown tom with darker stripes and a short, stumpy tail

**Apprentice** , _Brownpaw_

**Boulder** : big, skinny gray tom with a torn, ragged ear and blue eyes

**Apprentice** , _Wetpaw_

**Clawface** : heavily-built, sturdy, brown tabby tom

**Apprentice** , _Littlepaw_

**Nightpelt** : black tom with yellow-green eyes

**Darkflower** : black she-cat

**Queens** : **Dawncloud** : small, pale ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes, mother of Finchflight’s kits: **Blossomkit** (white she-cat with green eyes) and **Swampkit** (black and white patched tom with amber eyes)

**Brightflower** : orange tabby she-cat with a broad, flat face and wide-set amber eyes, permeant nusery queen

**Elders** : **Ashfur** : thin and long-bodied, gray tom

**Brackenfoot** : pale ginger tom with dark ginger legs

**Blizzardwing** : mottled, white tom

**Featherstorm** : dark brown tabby she-cat

Windclan

**Leader** : **Tallstar** : black and white tom with a very long tail and amber eyes

Riverclan

**Leader** : **Crookedstar** : huge, light brown tabby tom with green eyes and a twisted jaw

**Deputy** : **Oakheart** : dark, reddish-brown tom with amber eyes

Cats outside clans

**Smudge:** plump, black and white tom with amber eyes

**Sorrel:** bright flame-colored she-cat with emerald-green eyes and a bushy white tipped tail

**Barley** : black and white tom with blue eyes

**Violet** : small, pale orange tabby she-cat with thin darker orange stripes and blue eyes

**Scourge** : small, black tom with one white paw, ice-blue eyes, and a torn left ear

**Bone** : massive, black and white tom with green eyes and a battle-scarred pelt

**Socks** : black tom with a white muzzle, chest, paws, and tail-tip

**Ruby** : pale colored she-cat with light amber eyes


	3. Prologue

The tom skidded to a halt in the center of his clan’s camp; the roar of the battle pulsing through his veins. Around him, his clanmates, living and dead, fought side by side as their enemy, the Dark Forest warriors, met with each swipe and bite. His green eyes searched through the battling cats, trying to find his target. If he could find the very cat he faced many seasons ago and fought him, this very fight would come to an end and the darkest times for the four lake clans would cease to hover over them.

_ There! There that traitor is!  _ Lips curling in a snarl, the tom found his target looming over a hissing cat. He quickly recognized the hunched figure as his deputy and kit’s mate, Brambleclaw, as he stood protectively over his daughter,. She and her littermate, Juniperpaw, had been apprenticed half-moon ago and the tom was still protective of his kits. Seeing how the tom was moments away from collapsing onto his trembling daughter and the deadly, lustful look in the traitor’s eyes, the tom knew he couldn’t stand by any longer. I  _ will not let any more of my kin to be slain because of these Dark Forest rats _ , he silent vowed, recalling the glazed over eyes of his grandkit, Hollyleaf.  _ They will pay before I lose another. _

The Thunderclan leader, named Firestar, flung himself through the cats. Gulping air and muscles burning, she weaved around the roars, his claws digging into the barren camp floor to propel him after. He had to get there before he lost his deputy and his daughter, Squirrelflight, lost her mate. As he drew closer, he found himself blocked, a Dark Forest cat with a matted and heavily scarred pelt, was fighting with Blossomfall and her mother, Millie, as they pushed the cat away from the medicine cat where the injured lay. Assisting them, with a tug to the scuff, his emerald-green eyes scanned the clearing, heart wrenching to a stop when he saw Tigerstar preparing to strike his son.

“No! Back down Tigerstar!” Firestar flung himself the last bit through the clearing and skidded to a halt in front of the broad-shouldered tom, fangs bared. “I will not let you hurt Brambleclaw and Dandelionpaw,” he growled, pelt bristling to make him appear twice his size. “You have done enough to hurt your son and I will not allow you to do anything else to him.”

Tigerstar chuckled as if he found the proclamation humorious before resting his amber Gaze on Firestar. Taking a step back from where his two kin huddled, the former Shadowclan leader lowered his paw. “They won’t fall just yet,” the Dark Forest cat sneered. “First, we will meet in battle. But first, I will make you watch until every one of your clan members die, making sure to save your pathetic grandkits for last.”

Trying to ignore the trembling of his body, Firestar lashed his tail. “The battle is over,” he snarled, noticing how the last few straggling Dark Forest cats began to retreat from the camp. “You have no one to back you up anymore, Tigerstar!”

“Quite wrong you are, Kittypet,” crowed Tigerstar. “The Dark forest is endless and have more warriors than the pathetic clan can ever imagine. This battle-the fate for the stars and our lives-is mere just beginning.”

One of the three, Dovewing, darted forward, tail bristling as she boldly proclaimed, “Brokenstar and Hawkfrost are dead,” with a snarl. “Why would they fight this battle? There is no leader to guide them like the clans have.”

Tigerstar, amber eyes hungrily ranking over the young warrior’s frame, chuckled once more in amusement. Taking a few pawsteps forward and getting blocked by Firestar as the young warrior stepped back and immediately was surrounded by her former mentor and littermate. Baring his teeth and flexing his claws, he smirked. “They have me, little kitty,” he taunted.

“You are no leader, Tigerstar.” Standing on the tip of his paws, he padded forward, keeping his injured kin behind him. “You never were.”

Tigerstar snarled. “I am a better leader than what you could ever be. Once the Dark Forest wins the battle, you will fade while I remain for I am the cat that slaughtered the clans and brought a new era in their absence.”

“A leader puts his clan first,” Brambleclaw mewed hoarsely, leading heavily onto Squirrelflight with his tail wrapped protectively around his two younger kits. “Instead of you fighting your battles, you make your clanmates fight for you.”

“Real warriors, not your clan mice, love battle and the bloodshed,” Tigerstar sneered. “I give my warriors a chance to die for a cause.”

Disgust pooled into Firestar’s belly as he dug his aching claws into the hard ground. “You have gone mad,” he cried, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you realize that countless cats have died for this battle? How have you done them a favor, Tigerclaw!”

“You will never understand, Kittypet.” Pelt rippling and squaring up his shoulders, Tigerstar began to walk forward, causing Firestar to signal for his clanmates to back up, protect the ones who were too weak. It would be too risky to leave the injured and weaker unprotected. “You are used to being pampered and coddled. You have ruled like you are a Housecat and your clan mates are like little mice waiting for the danger to pass.”

Crouching down and preparing to attack, Firestar’s pelt rippled, his sore and aging muscles spazzing in protest. “And what have all your battles been so far, Tigerstar?” he demanded, hackles raising. “What cause is worth the lives of so many warriors? Was it worth it to see your own son, Hawkfrost, choke on his own blood? Or to see an innocent cat to be mauled and eaten alive by the dog pack? Or was it worth it to leave your own, someone who is more honorable warrior than you ever could be, to break past your reputation and shadow for his clanmates to see who he truly is and start to trust he was loyal to the clan and them. So tell me, is this cause, whatever it is, truly worth it?”

Tigerstar’s eyes burned, almost making Firestar squirm as if he was a young apprentice again. “My cause is defeating you, Firepaw,” he jeered, dropping into a hunter’s crouch. “You have been nothing more than tick in my side since you decided to leave your soft, pampered life behind.”

The fiery tom met his gaze, channeling his moons as leader to match Tigerstar’s own burning one. “You have and never will defeat me.”

Behind him, Firestar heard a cat, possibly Dovewing, gasp. He could tell why. The wildness and thirst for blood in the dark warrior’s eyes terrified him. It almost froze him as he recalled the very incident that sent him onto the path towards becoming clan leader. But, with a shake of his head, he forced himself to stay grounded, to stay in the present.

“That is why I am here,” Tigerstar roared.

“Those Dark Froest rats won’t follow you,” Firestar told him. “They know now that they cannot beat the clans. They won’t try again. And if they try, Lionclan will form again and united, we will protect our home.”

“I don’t need them.” Tigerstar glanced at the glowing eyes at the top of the gorse only to bring his attention back onto Firestar. “I only have to beat you. Then I can pick off your clanmates one by one, moon after moon, until there is no one left to kill.”

Firestar’s gaze, worried and heart broken, shifted over to Ferncloud, Hollyleaf, and Mousefur from where they lay in front of the medicine cat’s den, before he snarled. “I am not going to let you harm another of my cats of my kin. You will have to go through me!” His tail swished low as he crouched down, easily recalling his training lessons with Bluestar when he was just an apprentice.

“Then, if you are going to be that way, the only option to stop me will be you killing me.”

Almost flinching, Firestar narrowed his eyes. Recalling his mentor’s words of, “Always wait for the perfect moment, Firepaw. Once you see the perfect moment, attack,” before snarling, “Has it been worth it, Tigerstar? All of the hate? All of the death? You caused so much trauma and turmoil because you being disloyal and a coward."

Tigerstar flattened his ears, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “Every moment.” Gaze flickering on the hesitantance of the tom, he shot forward. Claws digging deep into Firestar’s shoulder and putting most of his weight onto his smaller body, the former Shadowclan leader raked his spine with churning pas. “The moment Bluestar found you, I became nothing more than a pesky flea. All she cared about was the savior and how you were very important for the stability of the clan. After so many moons and countless seasons, I have waited to get my revenge!”

Lungs screaming for air and head growing light, Firestar threw all his weight onto his side, twisting free and ranking his claw into the hair, trying to slash him. The dark warrior, having the advantage, was able to duck back and prepare for another attack. Head bowing down, his teeth clenched onto his hind paw, pulling a yowl of pain as he was dragged onto his belly. Barely able to catch his breath, Firestar felt pain ram through his body as Tigerstar slammed his forepaws onto his spine. “When you are dead,” Tigerstar snarled, jaws clenching around his lower spine. “I can rule the Clans or kill them to start anew.”

From the corner of his eye, Firestar made out the bulky shape of Graystripe darting toward him. He barely made it two tail lengths before the Dark Forest warriors dove back into battle, blocking the cats from approaching and assisting their leader.

Using the last of his fading strength, Firestar heaved himself to his paws, coughing as the burning of his chest fading. Only half there, he turned to face Tigerstar. “I will not die until the forest is safe from you!” Seeing the perfect moment, he leaped for the dark warrior. Swerving in midair, he landed a whisker away from Tigerstar’s flank. Knowing what is coming, Firestar smashed his paws onto the dark warrior’s side, unbalancing him. Stumbling backward, Tigerstar collapsed onto the ground. Body beginning to tire, Firestar rained slashing blows onto Tigerstar’s head to end the very last fight for the Dark forest battle.

Writhing away, Tigerstar struggled to his paws. Blinking his amber eyes to clear the blood away, he lunged for Firestar’s throat. The Thunderclan leader lurched backward, letting out a shocked yowl. Seeing this moment of weakness, Tigerstar clung on, his claws missing his through and digging deeply into his chest with his own satisfied purr.

Firestar, lost in pain, weakly dug his hind claws into Tigerstar’s belly. Knowing what would happen next, he pushed him off, claws pulling out and fur flying into the air. Pain coursed through him and a cold sensation began to fill his chest. Gasping and coughing, he struggled to take a proper breath.

Groggy and dazed, he forced himself to his paws, forcing out, “You lived like a rogue,” he squeaked, body beginning to grow numb. “You can die like a rogue!” Flashing like lightning across the clearing, he flew at Tigerstar as he knew his strength was waning. With a vicious, painful snarl, he sank his deep deeply into Tigerstar’s neck. He held on, grip lessoning while Tigerstar’s thrashed and staggered before finally collapsing to the ground.

Firestar kept hold of the dark warrior as blood flowed over his paws. When Tigerstar finally stopped twitching, Firestar let go of his throat. He straightened up briefly and watched Tigerstar fade away. With his gaze blank and letting out a gasp for air, he shook.

Dovewing, pulling away from her kin, sprang forward. “Tigerstar is gone,” she cried. “The clans have won!”

As she spoke, thunder cracked the sky and Firestar felt his body grow weak. With a shuddering cough, he collapsed to the camp floor. Almost at once, his mate and kits rushed towards him. Feeling the soft, worried, nuzzle of his mate, he forced open his emerald eyes, misty and glassy.

“Sandstorm,” he wheezed, voice raspy and fading. “Squirrelflight, Leafpool...”

“We are here, Firestar,” Brambleclaw mewed, voice muffled and drained. “We are right beside you. Just stay wrong, Firestar. Jayfeather and Leafpool will heal you right away.”

“There is nothing that can be done.” The starry form of his former mentor, Bluestar appeared in his fading gaze. Gentle as if he was a newborn kit, Bluestar curled around his shaking body, gently beginning to smooth his pelt, trying to calm the younger tom’s racing heart. “As we speak, his lungs are filling with blood. Nothing can be done except to stay beside him until his light fades.”

“Firestar!” Sandstorm’s grief shaken yowl caused him to wince as his mate pressed his muzzle into his shoulder. Body shaking and letting out grief stricken wails, the pale ginger warrior couldn’t wrap her head around her mate’s looming death. “There has to be something that we can do, Bluestar! I can’t just lose him yet! Not when we just won against the Dark Forest cats and should be celebrating instead of losing our leader.”

Feeling scared, he pressed into his mate’s warm body. Her eyes were squeezed shut and body tight as caterwauls filled the hollow. It wasn’t until her voice was hoarse that did she collapsing into his icy pelt.

Suddenly a pain, sharp as thorns, rammed through him, and Firestar let out a weak moan of pain. Bluestar, whispering words of comfort softly into his fur, pressed against him until his shuddering body settled back onto the hard stone. For a moment, he just lay there, fighting to take another tight breath and still lost in the fading pain before another claimed him. “B-bl-Bluestar,” he mewed, voice getting lost as his throat tightened and the first hint of blood began to stain the gray ground. “I I do-don’t w-w-“

“Hush!” Another form, the second molly who was like a mother to him, crouched at his wide, pressing her thin tail gently onto his flank, stroking it as if he was one of her own kits. “I know that you are scared, Firestar,” the former medicine cat, Yellowfang, whispered, gently lifting him up so Jayfeather could place some moss beneath his head before taking his place next to his adopted parents with his littermate, Lionblaze, and kin, Ivypool and Dovewing. “But we are here for you. It will be over soon, and you will join us in Starclan, my brave little warrior.”

With his kin around him and his chest growing tighter and tighter, Firestar rested his head on the moss, feeling too weak to hold it up no longer. "I-I love you Sandstorm," he forced out, voice getting fought up with a hard cough, straining to get a few words out. "B-B-Brambleclaw, I-I-I'm."

Squirrelflight rushing forward, pressed her paws onto his muzzle, careful not to cut his breathing off. "Don't talk anymore Father," she pleaded, voice shrill and heavy with sorrow. Staring at her father and feeling the warmth leaving his body, the bushy tailed warrior felt a wail of despair building up at the back of her throat. "Save your strength and stay with us longer!"

"I understand," Brambleclaw added, limping over to his mate's father, tail dragging onto the ground. "I know that you are proud of me," he added in a whimper, voice sullen and heavy. "I p-promise to watch over the clan and keep Leafpool, Squirrelflight, Sandstorm, and every other cat safe. I won't be like my father. I will put the clan first and do everything to live up to your reputation, M-Mentor."

"N-N-No." The fiery tom choked out. "N-Not like me, B-Brambleclaw. B-b-be your own l-l-leader."

Brambleclaw lowered his head and crouched down, pressing his muzzle into the top of his head. It was this action that drove Leafpool and Squirrelflight to crouch around Bramblestar, pressing their noses into his head, shuddering at the tom’s labored breathing began to grow heavier and longer pauses in between. There wasn’t much time left for him to be with his family. “I understand, Firestar,” he mewed, pushing the oncoming wail out of his voice. “I will be my own leader and lead the clan to the best of my ability, F-Father.”

“We will make sure the clan remembers all of who we lost,” Dovewing sniffled, crouching down beside Yellowfang as Cloudtail, covered in webs and herbs from head to toe, limped out and settled down with a grimace beside the younger warrior, providing what little comfort he could to her.

“Your bravery and lessons of your placement at birth doesn’t define you, will be passed onto each litter that is born,” agreed Ivypool weakly, pressing into her grandmother’s pelt as she settled on the outer rim of the kin circling their dying leader. “You will never fade from Starclan as long as we keep telling your stories and what you have gone through.”

“We will be here,” Bluestar promised in a mumur, her icy blue eyes softening at the terror in her former apprentice’s gaze. “Yellowfang and I will not be leaving your side, Firestar. We will walk with you to Starclan’s hunting grounds.”

“Not even the Dark Forest can tear us away,” Yellowfang promised, forcing out a weak purr. “We will stay with you until the time has come, my brave little warrior.”

Blinking gratefully at the two older cats, Firestar drew in one more ragged breath. With one final shot of pain shooting through his body and a quiver of fear, a heavy weight began to settle on his chest. At first panic shot through him and he tensed up, flinching as the burning began to resurface and his throat tightened, allowing no air to get to his pleading lungs.

“You are not alone,” Leafpool whispered reassuringly, her nose pressing into his ear. “We will be right here, Father. You have nothing to fear.”

Hearing her promise and the whisper of Sandstorm to let go, Firestar closed his eyes as one last spasm of pain lanced through his body and his mind grew foggy. His last sensation he felt was his kin pressing close to him and providing his last bit of warmth. The very last thing he heard came from Brambleclaw before the entire clan joined in.

“Firestar,” his deputy wailed.

“Firestar! Firestar,” his clanmates chanted. “Firestar!”

Heart clenching and falling still, the area around him grew still and he descended into darkness, leaving his clan and family behind.


	4. Chapter One

The small she-cat woke up with a gasp, her emerald-green eyes flying open. Head snapping up, she coughed, drawing in much needed breathes. “Bluestar? Yellowfang?” she called out hesitantly, blinking her eyes as they adjusted to the dim light. Seeing no one, he whimpered out desperately, “M-m-Mentor? M-M-Mother?”

Throat tightening, the she-cat crouched down in her nest, claws digging into the soft material, not noticing the approach of another creature. Suddenly, a large rattle jolted her back to the present. Tensing up and preparing for an attack, she froze and watched in disbelief as her former Twoleg poured, hard, dried pellets of food into her dish. “No,” she whispered, feeling like she fell into the icy waters of the Leaf-bare season lake. “No!” Holding back a wail of anguish, the fiery molly pressed back down, muzzle burying beneath her paws. Was everything she had been through just a dream of hers? Was there no Bluestar, Yellowfang, Sandstorm, or any of her kin?

“Bluestar! Yellowfang!” Leaping off the bed and skidding across the cold floor, she trembled as she took her first hesitant steps, not used to the slippery surface. Once she got the proper footing, the she-cat took off, wincing at the sharp ringing of the bell attached to her collar. “Cinderpelt!” Stopping in front of a large window, she pressed her paw pads into the pane, whimpering mournfully as she was met with the cold, glittering starlit sky outside. “Starclan, please give me answers,” she pleaded, ears pressing down. “Please, if it truly is real, give me a sign!”

“Looks like the kitty is up,” sneered a voice from behind her. “Did you have a little dream again, Kitty? You were talking in your sleep and groaning and moaning.”

Belly tightening, the she-cat turned around and found her face to face with two larger cats, a she-cat and a tom. While they bore the markings of Kittypets, their pelts were scarred with markings of many battles and looked hardened, like a seasoned warrior, unlike her. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, pressing against the wall, pelt starting bristle. “W-whatever I dream about doesn’t concern you!”

The she-cat, pale gray and amber-eyed, gave an amused laugh, tail flicking back and forth. “Bluestar, I don’t want to die. Yellowfang, I can’t breathe,” mocked the older she-cat, voice high-pitched and whimpering. “Who is Bluestar and Yellowfang? Your little imaginary friends? Or are they other worthless cats that deserve to be punished?”

“I-you’re lying-“ snarled the fiery feline, crouching down in a defensive position, feeling awkward in her small, petite body. “Bluestar and Yellowfang aren’t worthless! They and many more are the noblest cats I know and trust them with my life!”

“Bluestar, help me! Yellowfang, I can’t breathe,” snickered the only tom of the felines. “I can’t breathe. Please don’t leave me, Bluestar, Yellowfang.”

“Shut up,” hissed the she-cat quiet, a growl building up at the back of her throat. “Shut up or I will make you!”

“Please don’t leave me, Bluestar! Yellowfang, I’m scared. Please don’t leave me to die alone.” The tom stood, giving a humorous shake of his pelt, padding over to the she-cat. “Don’t get your pelt in a bush, Sorrel,” he mewed, eyes glancing at the she-cat. “Ruby and I were just joking with you. You know that Scourge would have our pelt if we upset you.”

She blinked her emerald-green eyes. “Sorrel?” she echoed, disbelief in her voice. “Scourge!” Heart pounding in her chest, the she-cat sprang up and raced towards the other side of the kitchen where his Twoleg stored their weapons. Staring into the shiny, still water, she was met with the appearance of a young cat. A cat young enough to appear like a newly apprentice instead of a gray furred and grizzled elder like before. “Great Starclan,” she gasped, emerald eyes widening. While she knew it had been just a dream but that moment, staring at the still water, the kitten was met with the face of a lion, jaws open and roaring. In between its open jaws, a swath of stars sprang out and almost glittered like the real ones. While it was only brief, she got the meaning. Everything she had gone through before wasn’t a dream. For some reason, she had woken up in the past and many things appeared to be changed. “H-h-how in the stars,” she whispered to herself. “W-why was I sent back here?”

“Are you feeling okay, Sorrel?” The she-cat, no Ruby, approached her. Stopping beside her side, she placed a paw on the younger kit’s forehead. When she felt no fever, she removed her paw and frowned. “If you have a bellyache or are still upset at us teasing you, Socks and I can tell Scourge that you are a bit under the weather and need the night to rest. He might send Bone or Hoot to check on you but you will have the den to yourself most of the evening.”

Pulling away from the she-cat, uncomfortable by her close proximity, she pressed her fiery pelt into the cold material. Her collar, rubbing uncomfortably, pinched around her neck. “Tell him that I will see him tomorrow morning,” she mewed, trying to make herself look pitiful and weak. “I think the food that the Twolegs gave me is making me sick.”

“Get some rest, Sorrel,” Ruby mewed, pressing her nose into her ear tip before following her littermate out through the cat flap after saying, “Try to drink some water and if you’re up to it, the pellets might help settle your belly.”

Lips curling up in a snarl, she glared in the direction of her filled dish. Even during the time when the Twolegs were tearing up the forest, her clanmates and herself refused to even come near the Kittypet slop. And now, even though she was considered a Kittypet, she refused to indulge in the pampered ways. Giving one more glance at the murky water, she gave a stretch, pushing the sleep out of her limbs and bounded over to the cat flap. After checking that no one was in the area, she slipped through the cat flap, not even pausing a heartbeat when her pelt got caught. As she entered the garden, Sorrel hoped that she would run into Smudge to have one more night with her old friend from her kithood. Because, from the moment of becoming an apprentice of Thunderclan, she could no longer talk to him unless she wanted a repeat of what happened last time.

Outside, the moon was bright and the stars glittered as if Starclan was beckoning her to enter the forest once more. Fluffing up her pelt against the light drizzle, Sorrel stalked down the tidy, unnatural garden, wincing n how the cold stones dug into her soft, delicate paw pads. Pausing beside a bush, leaves glossy and branches heavy with flowers, she tugged at her collar, trying to tug it off but no prevail, it remained.

Hissing in anger, she bristled and clambered onto the fence, digging her claws into the wood. In the past, she could remember spending countless days staring out into the forest, too afraid to wander beyond her fence. But now, with her past memories, she felt more confident than in the past. Even if she didn’t have the muscles or strengths of a seasoned warrior, she knew the movies and was prepared to defend herself or others if necessary.

Blinking her emerald gaze, she realized the rain had stopped and now the moon was beginning to rise. If Sorrel wanted to run into Graypaw like last time, she would have to leave soon. Or she would miss her opportunity but as she raised her paw to move, there was something, tugging at her paws that told her to remain still for a few more heartbeats and linger around the edge of her Twoleg’s garden for a few brief moments.

Suddenly, as if recognizing her long-buried warrior instincts, the fur along her spine prickled. Eyes narrowing, she gazed into the dark tree-scented air. Was something moving out there? Was something watching her? Was it the Dark Forest warriors coming back to complete their job that they failed to do? Digging her claws into the wood and tensing her muscles, she crouched for a moment, preparing to be attacked any moment by an enemy warrior or another creature.

“Hey? Are you o-?”

Sorrel leaped up as a black and white blob appeared in the corner of her gaze. Hissing and scrambling backward, she prepared to strike when the figure hissed, fear scent tainting the air.

“Calm down,” the figure yelped. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

Coming back to her senses, Sorrel blinked her emerald green gaze once she made out the familiar pelt of a plump, black kitten. Trembling in relief and sorrow, she met the tom’s face. “Smudge?” she whimpered, eyes glowing with relief.

“Do I know you?” The familiar tomcat mewed, moving closer to her, amber eyes squinting. “I don’t remember meeting you before, molly. How do you know my name?”

Sorrel bit back a whimper. In this timeline, where things seemed different, didn’t Smudge, the cat right next to her garden, not know her? “It’s me, Sorrel,” she replied, dropping into a sitting position and wrapping her white-tipped tail around her paws. “Don’t you remember all the games we used to play? Bat the ball and chase the feather,” the she-cat suggested, voice almost pleading. “We grew up together, side by side.”

“Wait!” Smudge froze, balancing ungracefully on the fence as his amber eyes widened. Tail fluffing up in alarm and hackles rising, the collared kittypet sprang backward, tumbling into her garden with a startled yowl. “I know who you are!”

“You do!” Sorrel sprang into the garden, staring at her friend with excited eyes, hopeful. “You remember the games we used to play? The times we stayed up late and looking at the stars? Please tell me you remember, Smudge!”

“You are Scourge’s mate,” yowled the tom, leaping onto the fence and bounding towards his own garden. “Stay away from me, heathen! I don’t want that tom or any of his “friends” coming after me for associating with you.”

“Wait-“ Sorrel stuck a paw out, outstretched towards Smudge. “Please, you have to re-“

“Stay away from me, bloodthirsty rat!” With a snarling growl, he disappeared into the walls of his garden, leaving a hurt and upset Sorrel in his place.

“I thought Ruby and Socks reported that you were feeling ill, Sorrel?” meowed a blood-chilling, familiar voice behind her.

Heart freezing, Sorrel looked up. A large, battle-scarred tom balanced with ease on the fence. His green eyes met her own hurt gaze.

“Hello,” she replied softly, trying to hide her nerves. If she was correct, this was Bone, a cat of Bloodclan, and the very one who took the life of his former deputy, Whitestorm. “I thought some fresh air would help me.”

“Why were you talking to that pampered filth.” Bone bared his large teeth, tail lashing back and forth. “You are better than that little housepet, Sorrel.”

“I was lonely,” she lied, shifting uncomfortably. “With Socks and Ruby away and me feeling ill, I wanted some company.”

“I can understand with Tansy, Flower, and Bumble now settling down and having litters, you don’t see that often anymore.” Bone settled on the side of the fence allowing room for Sorrel to scramble up. “But Scourge decided that next time you are ready to couple, you and him are going to try for kits.”

Sorrel didn’t know how to respond. One part of her, the main part, was overjoyed and wanted to rejoice while the other part, her loyalty to her clanmates and knowledge of her destiny, wanted to tremble in disgust and terror. “Kits, already,” she squeaked, eyes widening. If she joined the clans, she would just begin her apprenticeship and much too young to bare or deliver kits. It would be a death sentence. “But we’re so young.”

“Not really,” Bone insisted. “You are a perfect age. Just young enough to keep up with the litters but not too old where carrying the kits will be hazardous to your health.” The Bloodclan rogue paused, seeing her shifting from paw to paw. “What’s wrong, Sorrel? You’re acting like you have fleas.”

Sorrel dug her claws into the soft earth, cursing under her breath. Fox Dung! She thought she was doing good to hide her unease around the tom. “I’m okay,” she forced out through gritted teeth.

“Sure and dead cats can talk.” Bone gently wrapped his tail around the she-cat’s back, causing her to feel sick to her belly. “But truthfully, what is wrong, Sorrel? Don’t lie or I will have to inform Scourge that I punished you.”

“I…” Sorrel trailed off, skin-crawling beneath her pelt. Taking a deep breath and channeling her inner leader, she responded. “I saw many things. There were cats, who I thought I was close to, dying and suffering from illness. Cats, who we thought we never see again, rise from the grave to slaughter me and my friends. But…” Her head lowered, shivering. “There were good things but it is still upsetting.”

Bone had remained quiet for so long that it started to scare her. She had prepared to take off fleeing when he chuckled, removing his tail from her back. “You certainly do have a creative imagination,” he purred. “But do you want to talk about it? You do look very upset, Sorrel.”

The she-cat kept her gaze down, claws digging into the wood. While I do want to talk about it, I wouldn’t choose you, she thought bitterly. If she had an option of who she would choose, Sorrel would have chosen his former mentor, Bluestar, or a maternal figure, Yellowfang, to seek guidance from. But with them not yet being introduced to her, she had no one to talk to.

“I’ll talk to Scourge later.”

“Good.” Bone turned away, preparing to leap onto the coarse terrain. “I need to head back to the camp to make sure the idiots aren’t slacking and prepare for the trial tonight.” He flicked his tail at her. “Don’t stay out too long or you’ll make yourself sicker.”

Sorrel gave a curt nod, emerald green eyes watching as he disappeared into the shadows. “Safe travels,” she mewed in a forceful cheery voice.

Once the Bloodclan cat was gone, Sorrel collapsed onto the post, drained and exhausted from having to act cheerful and happy around an enemy. Once she felt strong enough to stand up, she stared into the forest beyond her fenced off garden.

Her friend, Graystripe, would be heading towards the Twoleg border soon. Soon, not long after, Bluestar and Lionheart would be tracking him down. They were waiting for her. All she had to do was to go and find them.

Then she could start her journey of a thousand paw steps.

Just thinking of facing Tigerclaw again in battle and listening to the jeers and whispers of their doubts of her loyalty almost made her debate her choice. Would it be worth it to risk her life, knowing what would happen? Or was this Starclan’s warning for her? Did they think she wasn’t meant to be a clan leader and was telling her to stay out of the woods?

But as she sat there and prepared to turn back, a flash of light, brighter than the stars themselves flashed through the sky. Seeing this and seeing how the bigger star shined over the forest, she made her decision.

“I’m going to explore the forest,” she thought out loud.

Jumping off the fence and landed on the other side, close to the untamed wilderness, Sorrel paused to glance at her Twoleg nest. While she may not join the clans tonight, if she didn’t run into a patrol, she would keep trying until they accepted her. “Starclan,” she mewed, emerald eyes glancing at the sky. “I know that my littermate, Princess, is only a Kittypet but please keep an eye on her. Her son, Cloudtail, if that remains the same, will one day be a great asset to the clan and a good father and mentor one day.”

Pressing her nose into the cold wood, she turned around and began the first steps into her journey of protecting her clanmates and saving the clans from the dark reaches of Brokenstar, Tigerclaw, and much other evil, monstrous, and twisted cats.

***

Once she left the looming nests and overbearing and frightening presence of Bone, Sorrel felt herself slip back into the natural process of being a wild cat. Surveying the area, it wasn’t hard for her to see that the last layer of Leaf-bare still clung stubbornly to the ground. While it was thin and almost melted, it prevented her from getting a good moment to scent the area. What she did pick up was the low whisper of the late Leaf-bare breeze through the trees and the lingering scent of late-night rain. Fluffing up her pelt against the cold, she came to the place where her new life had started in the past. Settling down, she sighed, claws gently needing the dirt. It had been moons since she had ever felt so carefree and at peace.

Lowering her head down and sighing, she closed her eyes, listening for the distant approach of paw steps. Instead of hearing the approach of paw steps, a low, rumbling purr sounded right next to her, brushing against her ear fear.

Leaping up, startled, and spinning around, she hissed, fur fluffing up to make her look like a bigger threat. But as she turned around, Sorrel paused, emerald-green eyes widening once she stared at the cat who purred.

The cat was not of the world and seemed to have a glow of wisdom around hm. He was massive with a shaggy pelt that appeared to hide his bony frame. While he bore no mark of being a seasoned warrior, the pungent odor of herbs did make her think he might have been a medicine cat in the past.

Meeting the ice-cold eyes of the tom, she took a step forward, respectfully dipping her head. "W-where you sent here to speak to me?" she mewed, keeping her voice low. It would look odd Bluestar, Lionheart, or Graystripe, currently, Graypaw, came upon her, a seemingly useless Kittypet, conversing with one of their warrior ancestors late at night.

"Quite on the contrary," the tom mewed in a hoarse voice, padding around her. "I came here on my own and I can say that you don't live up to all the talk my clanmates have said about you in the past."

Sorrel opened her mouth to respond but before she could ask anything, the cat turned around and hissed at her as if she was an enemy.

"Hopefully, you will be enough," he snarled, baring his cracked, yellow stained teeth. "If anything happens, she-cat that could have been prevented, I will have your pelt."

Flinching and backing up, she pressed herself against the ground, trying to make herself smaller. Even during the time leading up to the Dark Forest battle, she had never met an ancestor who threatened or frightened her so. "Y-Y-yes, sir," she stammered.

With an amused purr, the former medicine cat vanished.

With the strange cat gone, Sorrel slowly rose onto her hunches. Pausing to give her shoulder a nervous lick, a habit she did a lot in her younger moons, she raised her head in the air and drew the scent into her mouth. With the change of the wind, it gave her more of an advantage to scent her area. To the very far side, the Snakerocks if she remembered correctly, off in the distance still held the same arid, bitter scent that would most likely leave a fowl taste in her mouth. Over top the bitter scent, the mouthwatering smell of Twoleg food and sap, possibly from Spottedleaf collecting it, also greeted her. Seeing there was no threats in the area, she settled down, frowning as her belly let out a low rumble.

From recalling the past, two or three sunrises, her Twolegs, less caring and more forgetful, didn’t place food down for her and her supposed to weekly visit for Scourge had been pushed back because of her being “ill”. With that thought, she realized it had been quite some time since she had eaten a meal and filled her belly.

Recalling the scents, she knew she picked up some prey within the area. One being a dove, a rarity to find, that was out of her reach. The others being a mouse (probably in its burrow) and the fresh scent of a squirrel. It was the movement from out of the corner of her eye and the scuffling amongst some sprouting ferns that caught her attention.

Following instincts, she dropped into a low, off-balance crouch. With one slow paw after another, she drew her body forward through the foliage. Ears pricked and eyes narrowed, she moved towards the prey. From where she stood, it, the squirrel, was sitting among some sprouting flowers, nibbling on a large seed head between its paws. Mouthwatering, she almost rejoiced by seeing how plump it was. It would make a handsome meal.

Rocking on her haunches, she prepared to leap as excitement coursed through her. Even after many seasons of being a warrior, it was still exciting to hunt. Tensing as she pushed off the ground, she lands on the couch. With a quick blow with a sheathed paw to the back of its head, her catch fell limp. Picking up the squirrel, Sorrel looked around, finding a place to store it until later when a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves altered her of another creature in the vicinity. Dropping the prey and opening her mouth, her bell gave a treacherous jingle as she drew in the familiar scent of a fox.

Springing backward and unsheathing her claws, she dropped low to the ground as if she was stalking prey. Raising her gaze, she saw the white-tipped tail over the sprouting greenery. It was only a moment later before she had a chance of reacting, that she saw the gleam of predatory golden eyes and sharp white teeth that glinted in the moonlight when the fox sprang. Unprepared, the fox and her tumbled onto the ground, both fighting for their lives. While the fox, having blunt nails and only sharp fangs, Sorrel had sharp teeth and needle-sharp claws to work with. Raking her claws on its chest and front legs, she yowled, hoping to raise alarm to any cats nearby. But that was cut short as she was shoved to the ground and the fox on top of her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Laying there for a moment, she gathered her bearings before biting down tightly onto its leg, not even flinching at the sharp metallic tang of blood filled her senses. 

The fox gave a loud yelp and tore away, only remaining in place by Sorrel’s jaws clamped tightly onto its foreleg. Once she saw it was trying to escape, she released, collapsing back onto the ground, panting as it fled. “I need to get back into shape,” she mewed, getting unsteadily to her paws and began to limp over to where she had dropped the mouse.

Finding the squirrel, dampened by the small layer of snow, and covered partially in the dirt, she sighed. Eating the fresh-kill in the state it was in would just give her a bellyache and made her sick. But still, she gripped onto its scruff between her jaws and limped towards a blooming bramble bush, hoping to possibly rip the pelt away and eat the meat beneath.

Settling down and beginning to pry the hide away from the piece of fresh-kill, she began to eat the piece of fresh-kill when she detected another noise. It was off from the other side of the clearing, muted and distant. Getting up and ears perked, she grew tense, trying to figure out what the noise was. _Screams_? she thought, worried. Was she too late to protect Redtail from Tigerclaw? Was the battle over Sunningrocks currently playing out?

Beginning to stalk forward, she strained her senses, hearing the faint rustling becoming a loud and fast-approaching leaf crackle, and the screams, more high pitched and terrified made her realize it wasn’t an apprentice or a warrior but kits.

“This way, Lynxkit,” a familiar, higher-pitched voice, shouted as the loud yapping cries of another fox drowned out the rest of the kit's yell.

The two kits burst into the clearing like an explosion and Sorrel would have run right into them if she hadn’t been prepared to spring forward. Twisting and yowling, she threw herself at the fox, prepared to defend the kits with her life. Digging her claws deep into its shoulder muscles, she gripped onto the creature’s back.

They writhed and squirmed around the clearing, fighting to dominate each other. For a second, she felt like the fox was winning, then she froze. Thinking fast, she bit down onto the back of its neck, digging her teeth tightly into its bone. While it was dangerous to risk her attention to be in one task while her enemy was still writhing and fighting but it was a chance that she had to take.

Much to her relief, her attack worked. With one finally pained yelp and one last shudder, the russet fox’s body fell limp. Releasing her grip, she limbed off of the fox, stumbling to where the two kits head, the tom standing protectively in front of the smaller littermate.

“Don’t come any closer,” the tom squeaked, pelt fluffing up as he bared his small milk teeth. Claws digging into the mushy earth, the black and white kit stood tall, trying to make his fluffy ball self look threatening. “If you try anything, Kittypet, I will shred your pelt to pieces!”

She paused, letting out an amused purr.

The two kits, one a tom and the other a she-cat, barely looked to be more than two moons old. They still scented of milk and their fur, still soft and fragile, unable to keep out the cold. Taking a small step forward, she paused in front of the kits. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she mewed, emerald green eyes taking in the kits’ black and white, for the tom, and ginger and black patched, for the she-cat, pelts. “Do you have a home nearby, young ones? It’s much too cold to stay out for too long.”

“We’re far from camp,” the she-cat mewed, letting out a low whimper as her belly rumbled. “I’m hungry and want Mama.”

“Can you eat prey yet?” she mewed, taking another few paw steps forward to nudge the two kits to the bramble bush. “If you can, you can have my squirrel. It’s freshly caught and might possibly warm still.”

It didn’t make except for a few more gentle nudges for them to follow her back to the bush. Pausing to gather a few bundles of moss, she laid them out, creating a spongy barrier between the cold ground and the three cat cats. Allowing the two kits to devour the plump squirrel, she curled around them once they began to doze off.

“Starclan guard us tonight,” she whispered, wrapping her tail around the kits and placing her head onto her paws, preparing for a long and cold night.

***

Far away from where Sorrel and the two kits rested, an old, molly with battle scars lacing her pelt, sat alone. Keeping her tail wrapped around her paws, she stared up at the sky as the clouds began to cover the stars. All around her, in the shadows of the dens, she could hear the breathing and stirring of her clanmates as they slept uneasily. There had never been this much snow this late into Leaf-bare. It didn’t just worry her but also the older cats. Moving her icy gaze down to her paws, the molly let out a sigh.

From behind her, in the darker shadows of the camp, a small, dappled molly emerged from where she slept. Her pelt ruffled and eyes glassy but her paw steps, quick under the crunching snow.

“I am sorry for disturbing you, Spottedleaf,” the she-cat mewed, seeing her ragged appearance and how her jaws parted with a yawn. “I know you had your paws full with watching the kits and helping to search for Lynxkit and Swiftkit.”

The molly silently dipped her head in greeting. “It can’t be helped,” she mewed. “With the search of the kits still on and Leaf-bare going back to cold and snowy again, all cats need to pull their weight.”

“It will be quick,” she promised as Spottedleaf settled on the snow beside her leader. “There is much that is troubling me, tonight, my friend.”

“Do you wish to seek guidance from me, Bluestar?”

“I am deeply troubled by the snow and the disappearance of two of our clan’s kits.” She kept her gaze on the ground as the first fluttering flakes began to fall. “There are difficult times ahead and I fear that we may not survive.”

“Leaf-bare will draw to a close soon,” Spottedleaf mewed calmly. “Swiftkit and Lynxkit will be found. The warriors had their scent but had to turn back because of the weather.”

The gray molly sat up straighter, her broad shoulders twitching. “Perhaps, you are right, Spottedleaf. But, the last time we had such a difficult leaf-bare was the time when my kits were taken out of my nest. Maybe this is the sign that the clans won’t be around much longer or a curse bestowed upon us.”  
  
“Starclan would never be this cruel,” mewed Spottedleaf gently, shifting over and pressing close to her friends’ side. “They care four all four clans and only want the best for them, Bluestar. If there was something wrong, they would intervene. ““Has Starclan spoken to you?” asked Bluestar.

“Not recently, I am afraid,” responded Spottedleaf. “It has been several moons.”

Suddenly, almost drawing yowls from the two mollies, a bright light slashed over the treetops. Spottedleaf stood still but her fur bristled while Bluestar hissed, unsheathing her claws by instinct. Once she realized what she as doing, she settled back down and met Spottedleaf’s gaze. “Spottedleaf?”

“It was a message from Starclan,” she mewed, a distant look filling her eyes, and a voice, sounding like a thousand coming to home answered, “There will be a coming storm, one of blood and claws. Find the one who appears like fire but is timid as a deer mouse. Find the fire and the stars shall shine brighter than before.”

“Spottedleaf?” Hesitantly, Bluestar got to her paws, holding one forepaw out as if she feared touching her would shatter her. “How can some cat timid as a deer mouse be a fire? How can this be possible?”

Spottedleaf, shaking her head, came back to the present. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But this is the message that Starclan has chosen to share with us, Bluestar.”

The Thunderclan leader fixed her clear blue gaze on the medicine cat. “You have never been wrong before, Spottedleaf,” she replied. “If there is some cat, one that Starclan sees as worth, we must find them. Only the cat they speak about can save us.”


	5. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning!! 
> 
> There will be a scene of abuse and brief discussion of pedophilia in this chapter.

A small kitten, still having her kitten soft fur, crouched down, pressing her thin frame against the back of the den. Her emerald eyes stared ahead where a tom, pelt black as midnight and eyes cold as ice, stalked towards her, unsheathed claws clicking against the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, body trembling. “Please don’t punish me.”

The tom, despite angered and wanting to yowl at her, hesitated, paw in midair before giving a shake of his head. He couldn’t let his feelings cause him to give a bias, easier punishment onto the she-cat. Continuing beginning to pad over to her, he stopped in front of her, ice-cold eyes glaring down at her with a snarl, causing the she-cat to flatten herself to the cold, concrete ground.

“Little Dove, have you learned your lesson about misbehaving? Because of your foolish actions, you not only embarrassed me in front of my followers but also the new recruits! I was planning to take you out on a lovely stroll and go to the one park you love. But now, because of your misbehavior, we will be staying here and having a nice, long talk.”

His voice, normal soft, and gentle, was frigid ad stern, like a parent scolding a child, as he settled in front of the she-cat, casing a tense, terrifying atmosphere over the room. From behind him, at the entrance of the den, a large muscular tom emerged, tooth and clawed collar scratching against the sides of the resting quarters. The tom halted halfway into the den, green eyes landing on the shaking she-cat.

“But, I…” The she-cat forced herself to look up, meeting the gaze of the tom for a brief moment. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to fall off the side of the dumpster. P-Please forgive me.” Bowing her head, the kitten forced out a purr. “I will apologize to your followers but please forgive me.”

“It isn’t that slippery! And don’t use the rain as an excuse!” The stubborn tom stomped forward, roughly gripping onto the cat’s collar, pushing her to the ground and tightening its hold around her neck, causing her to thrash as her chest began to burn.

“Stay still and your punishment will be quicker, Little Dove. You need to learn your lesson.” Seeing she was refusing to sit still, the smaller tom flicked his tail, causing his partner to hold the she-cat down as her movements became more clumsy and sluggish. “Now-“ He leaned down to look into her foggy eyes. “Do you think you deserve to be here? In the status that I give you after what you did to embarrass me?”

“No…” The kitten wheezed out, unable to get a proper breath in. “No, I don’t deserve status and your love, my king.”

“You can release her now.” With a flick of his tail, he removed his hold onto the strip of her collar. Turning away and going to the entrance of his den, he prepared to go out and talk to his subjects. “Just for you to know, Little Dove, for your actions, I will not be feeding you. You can stay here and wallow in your self-pity or whatever until your two housemates come to fetch to take you home. And if we have to have another talk like this, I will leave a mark instead of being kinder this time. Do you hear me, Little Dove?”

“Yes, My King,” the kitten coughed out the familiar refrain, shakily raising one paw to rub her sore throat. “I will behave better in the future and not embarrass you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, turning around and padded back to her as the other tom left. Quickly nuzzling her and smoothing out her kitten fur, the midnight pelted cat went back to the entrance. “As much as I punish you and training you to be a proper partner, I still see you worthy of my time. I love you, Little Dove.”

“…Yes, My King.”

Left alone and throat hurting, the she-cat lay trembling onto the cold earth, starting desolating at the wall with her tail laying limply on the black concrete. Her mate, a leader of his own group, had always been rough and strict on her but he had never gone this far or frightened her this much.

Closing her eyes, she tried to force sleep to come as her belly clenched with pain. All she wanted to do was to eat and go back to the safety of her Housefolk’s den to escape from Her King’s grasp for another quarter of a moon.

The Housefolk’s den was the only safe place where no one could hurt her, or at least she hoped.

***

The white tipped kitten burst awake with a start, gasping for air. All her fear of disappointing the tom and terror of him discovering she lied was quickly extinguished by the sight of the two kits, bleary eyed and yawning, stumbling away from her. They stopped at the entrance of the bush, facing her.

“Are we going back to the clan and Mama today?” The tom settled down beside his littermate, grooming her fluffed pelt like a queen would. “Lynxkit and I want to go home and back into the nursery now.”

Sorrel was taken back by the maturity of the tom. Back in the other “timeline”, Swiftpaw, even as an apprentice, wasn’t that mature and acted like a kit at times. Staring at the tom, she didn’t know weather to sugarcoat the answer or just to be blunt. “Possibly,” she said after a second of thought. “It appears that there was a heavy snowfall while we were sleeping.” Getting to her paws and hissing under breath from her belly clenching tightly, she poked her head out. All around her, for as far as she could see, there was nothing but unbroken white snow. “I can carry your littermate, Lynxkit, but not sure if I have enough energy to carry you on my back, Swiftkit.”

“I will walk.” Swiftkit met her gaze as he began to wash his own pelt. “Lynxkit needs to go back to Mama and Spottedleaf. She hasn’t had her daily dosages of herbs almost two times in a row. I don’t want her to get sick or have her end up in the Medicine Cat’s den.”

Not giving a second thought, she picked up Lynxkit, limbs protesting as she nosed Swiftkit forward. As they began to pad out from under the bush and into the covering of the trees. Seeing how high the drifts her, she almost collapsed in relief when she saw Swiftkit was managing on his own while she floundered with each step.

Looking at the she-cat, Swiftkit mewed, “Have you been out here before?” His amber eyes sparkled with curiosity and worry. “I mean the forest seems to go on forever.”

Sorrel let out a purr. She had wondered the exact same thing when she first ventured out back when she had been Rusty. With a gently shake, she moved her gaze forward. “This is actually my first time beyond my garden fence in this direction,” she mewed, pausing to allow Lynxkit to scramble onto her back as she was struggling to breathe. “But the Housefolk place is huge. My mate-“ She winced, feeling bitter calling the midnight pelted tom something as her mate.

This version of her, while seeming mostly the same, was almost vastly different than her old self. For a million years, she could never picture herself staying with someone like Scourge if he had been Rusty or Firestar. Instead, this she-cat reminded her of Floss, Daisy’s littermate, who refused to leave Daisy’s former mate, Smoke, after receiving the treatment that had drew Daisy to seeking sanctuary with Thunderclan for her and her kits’ safety and well being. She knew, almost instantly, that her former mentor, Bluestar, would take her in if she found out her relationship with a tom who scared and hurt her almost every quarter moon.

“Sorrel?” Swiftkit cocked his head. “Did I say something?”

“No.” She gave a shake of her head. “My mate takes me around sometimes to show me the nicer areas and makes sure that I eat properly.”

“It doesn’t look like its feeding you,” Swiftkit protested, flicking his tiny tail at where her ribs were beginning to show around her flank. “Kittypets are supposed to look like expecting queens according to Thistleclaw and be lazy.

“I was...” Sorrel trailed off. It sounded Mouse Brain to say that she had gone moonrises without eating and the squirrel she caught was supposed to be for her. “It’s tough right now,” she lied. “My mate and all his comrades aren’t able to find enough food. Many nights, they go hungry to feed their expecting or nursing mates.”

“I can catch you something!” Swiftkit squashed himself to the snowy ground. “Papa taught me how to do the hunting crouch before Lynxkit and I went exploring outside camp.”

“I doubt there is going to be any prey out,” she mewed, nudging him forward. While he had done a good crouch, it was much too cold to keep still for too long. “We need to keep moving if I want to get you two kits back to your camp. Hopefully, we will be able to find it soon.”

Swiftkit gave no protest when the fiery colored molly nudged him to go towards the direction that she hoped was camp. With everything changing, it could easily be assumed the position of Thunderclan camp had also changed.

They barely made it a few more tail lengths before Swiftkit began to tire and Sorrel was struggling to lift one paw after another. On her back, Lynxkit was shivering, her tiny body pressing into the she-cats fiery pelt for what little warmth it offered.

“Can we go back to the bush?” whimpered the black and ginger patched kit whimpered. “I’m cold, tired, and hungry.”

“We have to keep moving,” Sorrel insisted weakly, fishing Swifkit out from a drift. His black patches weren’t visible beneath the snow clumping to his fur. “The sooner we get back to our camp, you can nurse and see your Mama.”

“I want to nurse,” wailed Lynxkit, letting out a pitiful mew. “I want Mama!”

Swiftkit, trembling, had nothing to stay. Instead, he crouched down, pressing into her belly fur. Wrapping her tail around him, she stared ahead, pleading silent for Starclan to do something but when her prayer wasn’t answered, she got achingly to her paws. “Just a little farther,” she pleaded, already knowing it was a losing battle.

Swiftkit, reaching the end of his long patience, let out a wail that almost made the she-cat scoop him up and take them back to the shelter. “My paws are numb,” he cried, eyes squeezing shut. “I want to go back to the bush!”

Settling Lynxkit onto the ground next to Swiftkit, she began to pad forward. “Stay here,” she mewed to them, voice starting to get drowned out by the roar of the rising wind. “I’m going to see if I can find some shelter up ahead.”

Leaving the kits alone as she stumbled through the snow until she almost slid into a large hole in her path. Paws beginning to grow numb, she scooped snow out of the hole that was hidden beneath some ferns. “This will be perfect,” she mewed, scenting the air but detecting nothing but snow. Seeing most of the snow was gone and the windows picking up, she turned around, fluffing up her pelt in an attempt to drive the cold away. Stumbling back into the clearing, she panted, head throbbing and body shaking.

“Where did you go?” Lynxkit whimpered, her glassy eyes unblinking.

Swiftkit, shivering and teeth chattering, had squeezed his eyes shut. “We thought you left us,” whimpered the tom.

Sorrel’s belly dropped. They reminded her so much of Jaykit, Hollykit, and Lionkit when his daughters stumbled back into camp after a bad blizzard, nearly froze and half gone. “It’s alright, little ones,” she murmured softly, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. “I will never leave you until you arrive back at your clan’s camp and resting in the nursery with your mother.”

Swallowing her yawn of exhaustion, she carried each kit one at a time a few tail lengths ahead, pushing her battered body to pad through the large slow drifts and the lowering, bone-numbing temperatures. Little by little, they drew close to the den. With each paw step and time to gather the kits, her belly growled louder and her strength to keep coming until they were placed into the rabbit burrow, away from the elements and laying on the bare ground with the snow scraped out of the way.

“Will we be able to go home soon,” Lynxkit mewed sleepily.

“As soon as the weather gets warmer,” she mewed, forcing herself to sound alert and hopeful. “Once it's warmer, I’ll try to catch another squirrel or maybe I’ll get a rabbit this time.”

“I want milk,” Swiftkit protested. “Not fresh-kill.”

“You’ll have to wait a little bit longer,” she mewed, halfway sliding and halfway falling into the burrow. Regaining her balance, she sank into the nest and wrapped herself around the two trembling kits. “I’m sure your Mother will let you nurse long as you want when you rest in the nursery.”

“Soon?” Swiftkit’s mew was overshadowed by his mew.

“Soon,” she promised, resting her head on the ground. “For now sleep until I wake you, little ones.”

The kits, giving no pressed, into her belly fur, almost shocking her fully awake. Lynxkit was sleeping almost instantly. Her flanks rose and fell as she pressed her nose into Sorrel’s front legs, causing her to curl her back legs and tail around the two kits. Swiftkit, still clinging to stay awake, curled up in the middle of her belly.

***

By the time Sorrel woke up, the clouds had cleared in the sky and the first milky rays of new dawn were starting to peek through the edges of the far horizon. Alarm flashing through her eyes, she craned her neck to peer at her belly to find the two kits, curled up and sleeping soundly. Sighing in relief, she got to her paws, stepping gingerly out into the snow, pelt fluffing up. The snowdrifts were larger than the day before and were almost taller than her head. Opening her jaws to scent the air, she almost purred in relief when she detected the faint scent of a mouse.

Checking one last time to make sure Swiftkit and Lynxkit were still sleeping, she began to pad across the clearing, careful not to disturb the drifts in fear of scaring her prey away. Noticing a dusky brown color blob scuffling at the edge of the clearing, she dropped in a crouch, carefully putting one paw ahead of another.

Before she could move more than a few paw steps, a loud noise came crashing from her side. The prey she had been stalking, let out a panicked squeak and dashed into some bracken, hidden away and out of reach. “Fox dung,” she hissed, dropping down into a crouch and preparing for the potential battle but didn’t react quickly enough.

The creature exploded into a clearing like a fleeing prey, and Sorrel was sent flying into a clump of nettles. Twisting and hissing, she tried in vain to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to her back. It was gripping to her thin, faded pelt with incredibly sharp claws. Sorrel could feel her strength starting to fade and her collar tightening around her neck. Gasping and writhing desperately, she fought in vain to free herself. “Please,” she pleaded in a low sob, muscles protesting in her distressed movements. Ice cold terror coursing through her veins and her heart pounding in her chest, Sorrel was starting to lose hope. “Please let me go!”

The attacker’s attack just increased, refusing to back down. Letting out a yowl as sharp, white teeth sank into her back foreleg, the fiery ginger she-cat struggled in the show, gagging as the icy flakes fell into her gaping mouth. Letting out a rough cough, she unsheathed her claws, swiping at random spots within her reach. Feeling fur catching on her claws, she gave one tug before feeling the mass on top of her disappear. Leaping to her paws, she took off, sprinting back towards where the kits were located.

Behind her, a rush of paw steps told Sorrel that his attacker was giving chase. Even though her warrior instincts were telling her to turn around and fight, she knew that it would be better to get to the kits and get away from here instead of wasting what little energy she had in her.

Skidding to a halt as she came to the entrance of the den, she prepared to call out for the kits when she was sent tumbling to the side. “Swiftkit! Lynxkit!” Her attacker cried out in shock before turning to face her.

From where she lay, bruised and sore, the she-cat could see it was an apprentice, close to the end of its apprenticeship with having no kit soft fur anymore and muscles of a seasoned warrior. While its fur was no longer soft, it was long and fluffy, a reddish-brown with darker tips, resembling a spiked pinecone but soft as a feather. His hazel eyes glowed with warmth before turning to face the she-cat, they turned to dark and threatening. “What are you doing with these kits, rogue?” he hissed, baring his teeth and dropping into a battle stance. “Are you trying to take them to Shadowclan? Why did you kitnap them!”

Sorrel took a step back, panting as she dug her claws into the snow, fighting to keep herself standing. “I didn’t take them from your camp,” she mewed, meeting the tom’s hazel gaze with her own foggy one. “I was exploring the forest when I came across them. I-I was trying to bring them back to your camp but it's been hard because of the weather.”

The tom let out an amused laugh, pelt fluffing up as he began to creep forward. “I don’t think I would believe a rouge,” he snickered, eyes narrowing. “It is common knowledge that rogues are nothing but fox hearts who want to steal kits and take precious prey that we can’t afford to lose!”

“Chestnutpaw!” mewed Swiftkit excitedly as he stumbled out of the den, almost hidden by the deep snow. The only sight of his black-tipped ears gave away his position. “Don’t hurt her! Sorrel didn’t steal us!”

Chestnutpaw turned away from the she-cat and bounded over to where Swiftkit stood. Scooping him up and going over to the entrance where Lynxkit peered out, he pulled them close, trying to keep them warm against the frigid morning temperatures. “There was rogue scent all over the nursery,” he growled. “How do you explain that then?”

“The rogue was trying to cross the black thingy,” Lynxkit mewed, pressing into the warm belly fur of the tom. “A Monster ran him over and we got lost. It was Sorrel who saved us from a fox and was trying to take us back to camp when we got trapped out in the snow.”

“Either way, she will be chased out of our territory.” Detaching himself from the grasp of the kits, the apprentice, Chestnutpaw, began to stalk over to the she-cat, tail dragging on the ground. “So, you better start running back to your little Twoleg nest with your tail between your legs and cry to our little owners to be let in out of the cold.”

Sorrel took a hesitant paw step back, tail pressing into her hindquarters. While she could easily remember her fighting moves, her common sense was telling her not to cause trouble. She didn’t want to risk getting punished for misbehaving.

Chestnutpaw just smirked at her fear when he suddenly paused midstep and raised his head, sniffing the air. “Looks like backup as arrived,” he smirked. “You will learn your lesson for trespassing and hunting in our territory.”

“Chestnutpaw!”

A slender tom slid into the clearing, his pelt weighed down by clumps of snow. Stepping between his apprentice and Sorrel, he stared down the older paw. His green eyes remained steady but his body language dared him to make another move forward. “What did I tell you about confronting, Kittypets?” His tail flicked back and forth as he stood tall, claws digging into the snow. “She has shown no threat against you. You do not attack her when she has shown nothing but kindness when attempting to bring the kits back to camp even with weather like this.”

The tom bristled, head swinging down as he moved back to the kits. Drawing them close once more, Chestnutpaw met his mentor’s gaze. “I shouldn’t chase a Kittypet who is no harm or appears to be doing something in the favor of Thunderclan,” he mewed stubbornly, refusing to meet Sorrel’s shocked gaze. “Am I in trouble, Runningwind?”

Sorrel blinked, emerald green eyes taking in the tom. Runningwind, a loyal warrior who she was once trusted with her own life, had bulked up some and looked older than he was before. How did he get an apprentice, she wondered. Bluestar had said that Runningwind was never meant to get an apprentice as he didn’t hold the capability of being a mentor.

“Kittypet?” Runningwind’s green-eyed gaze turned to Sorrel, his eyes taking in her petite and famished frame before landing on her collar. “Why are y-“

Sorrel, blinking her eyes as her body began to tingle, pressed herself against the ground. “I am no threat,” she mewed, keeping her gaze forward. “While I came here to explore but after finding the two kits, Swiftkit and Lynxkit, I stayed until they could return to their clan and their mother.”

“Why not just take them back to our Twoleg’s nest?” Runningwind raised his tail before Chestnutpaw could choke out a few shocking mews. “After all wouldn’t that be closer than going through the trek into unknown territory for two kits who just appear to me too much trouble.”

Kits that are too much trouble? That thought infuriated Sorrel, but she held her tongue, fearful of the repercussions. But the warning look from Runningwind told her, as a mentor, he noticed her anger and was willing to act on the threat. Turning away, she flattened her pelt.

“Kits, no matter of their origins, are never trouble,” she hissed, meeting the tom’s gaze, forcing herself to stand up and act like a leader. “They are the future generations and could make a difference in how they are reared.”

“Kittypet!” Chestnutpaw growled and bore his fangs, pelt beginning to fluff up. “You have no right to speak to my mentor the way you have. He has shown your mercy by now having me or he attacking you. But still you show no respect and backtalk him. Give me one reason why not to chase you out of the territory this moment.”

Once again, Runningwind shot his apprentice a warning over his shoulder, raising his tail for silence. “While you have no grounds to speak so boldly, Kittypet, I can say that you have much support on that statement,” he mewed, nodding in approvals. “I should have worded it better. I meant that why did you not attempt to take the kits back to the Twolegplace instead of tromping through the forest, where you no doubt have gone hungry.”

“Runningwind!” Chestnutpaw padded over to his mentor, ushering the two protesting kits forward. Stopping, he wrapped his tail around them once more. “We should head back to camp with Swiftkit and Lynxkit. The Kittypet should be just fine on her own, and know better than to linger around much longer. Let her find her own way back to her Twoleg and her little nest.”

“A warrior does not abandon a kit in need,” Runningwind mewed sternly. “That was the very first thing, I taught you Chestnutpaw when you became my apprentice.”

“But I’m not a-“ Sorrel clamped her jaws shut as she thought back, trying to recall the very faint memory of being curled up in the curve of her mother’s belly and how cold it had been not longer after she was born. A cold that had lingered still to this moment. “I’m five moons,” she realized in shock. With everything-her expecting “coupling” with Scourge, her supposed mate, and her past knowledge-Sorrel was acting older than she was and had some air of maturity as the senior warriors, no doubtly. “I am still a kitten,” she whispered, blinking her eyes.

“Yes.” Runningwind padded forward, placing his tail tip on her shoulder. “And I don’t want my leader, Bluestar, to have my tail for setting a bad example for my apprentice by leaving a young kit out in the cold like this when they appear to be under the weather.”

Turning around to lead her back to camp, the older warrior hadn’t taken in consideration of how badly her body was shaking or the strain of effort on her face to lift her paws, because after a few paw steps, Sorrel felt the ground give out on her. Tumbling with a pained cry, she landed on the snowy ground with a whimper as if she was a kit calling out to its mother. With the concerned looks of Swiftkit and Lynxkit, the world disappeared into a black abyss. 


End file.
